Army dogs

Prince Rupert of the Rhine and Boy

Prince Rupert of the
Rhine (1619-1682), nephew of the ill-fated Charles I of England, was
taken prisoner at the Battle of Lemgo in 1638 and confined at Lintz
until 1641. During this hiatus, Lord Arundell, English ambassador to
Vienna, gave him a white Poodle, Boy, '"of a breede so famous that the
Grand Turk gave it in particular injunction to his ambassador to obtain
him a puppie thereof,"' (Eliot Warburton, Memoires of Prince Rupert
and the Cavaliers, London: 1849, 3 vols, vol. 1, p. 99). Warburton
adds dryly: "It is curious to observe this daring and restless man
amusing himself by teaching a dog that discipline he himself could never
learn."

This Poodle was Prince Rupert's constant companion until the dog's
death at the Battle of Marston Moor (2 July 1644). Boy was the subject
of Roundhead satire:

Finally: "Dutch engraving of Cromwell's dissolution of the Rump of
the Long Parliament (Radio Times Hulton Picture Library)." It is April
1643 and has Cromwell saying "Be gone you rogues You have sat long
enough" while his small Poodle in continental clip runs "growling" at
the departing parliamentarians. Perhaps the Dutch got Prince Rupert's
Poodle Boye mixed up with Cromwell? Perhaps Cromwell himself owned a
Poodle? Antonia Fraser, Cromwell--Our Chief of Men (London:
Weidenfield and Nicolson, 1973) ISBN 029776556 6, between pp. 412 and
413.

Unfortunately, although Prince Rupert was a popular subject for
portraits as a result of his combination of noble birth and military
heroism, and although at that time dogs were often painted with their
noble masters, there is no indication that he was ever painted with his
Poodle. Incidentally, Boy was reputed (in Roundhead circles) to know
many tricks (at "Charles", he jumped for joy); he slept in Prince
Rupert's bed, had more haircuts than his master, sat in the king's
chair, played with his children, enjoyed a sung Mass (headed straight
for the altar), lay with his paw on young Prince Charles' foot, and
Charles I fed him choice morsels of roast beef and breast of capon from
the table. Among more sinister accusations: he could go invisible
(that's how he spied), and delved into necromancy.

Sadly, the
master was not worthy of his dog. Although Boy was killed by a
Roundhead soldier at Marston Moor, the primary reason for his death was
that somebody fecklessly forgot to tie him up (Anne Osborne, "Rupert of
the Rhine, Anecdotes in the life of Prince Rupert--dog lover",
Tail-Wagger Magazine, June 1950, p. 146; however this detail is
unreferenced, and, judging from handling of regimental mascots, and dogs
belonging to individuals in the armies during the Napoleonic Wars, it
may have been customary to allow such dogs their freedom).

If Prince Rupert forgot to tie up his dog, it's less
surprising that he arrived late at the Battle of Nasby (14 June 1645)
because he had stopped on the way to eat ice cream. Illustration at
left: the death of Boy, from A Dogs Elegy; note the support the
soldier is using for his gun (for more about firearms in the mid-17th
century, see Duck dogs -- guns).

Note: Beatty, John Louis (1922-1975) and Patricia Beatty, Witch
Dog (NY: Morrow, 1968), 254 p. geneal. table, map. 22 cm (juvenile
fiction). However good an introduction to the English Civil War this
book may give a juvenile reader, the character of Boy is developed in an
unlikely direction for any dog, let alone a clever Poodle who
became a favorite with Charles I and his children. In case the
forgiving thought springs to your mind that breed-specific temperament
of the Poodle has entirely changed in 350 years, Markham's description of the Water Dog (1621) is very
recognizable to today's Poodle-lovers. Sources used by the authors may
be useful to a Poodle-fancier setting forth on an independent study of
Boy: Alfred H. Burne and Peter Young, The Great Civil War,
1642-1646 (1959); Clennel Wilkinson, Prince Rupert the Cavalier
(1934); Eva Scott, Rupert, Prince Palatine (1900); Eliot
Warburton, Memoirs of Prince Rupert and the Cavaliers, Including
Their Private Correspondence, 3 vols (from which we quote, above);
the Earl of Clarendon, History of the Rebellion. Witch
Dog contains a useful note (p. 252) on Thomas Howard, second Earl of
Arundel ("a plain, quiet man, but a great lover of art, as well as an
extremely well educated person"), who gave Boy to the imprisoned prince.
In the novel, Boy's breeder is a Baron Von Furstenberg; it's not
evident whether this is fiction or based on primary documentation.
So...if you're ever in Vienna, and into local history, please check!

Mascots during the Napoleonic Wars

Lydia Hopkins, in The Complete Poodle, 3rd edition (NY:
Howell, 1962), pp. 281-3, mentions Poodles who accompanied their masters
during the Napoleonic Wars, for example, that Emperor Napoleon
recollected in his memoirs the faithfulness of a Poodle who died at the
battle of Marengo, licking the face of his fallen master, a Grenadier.
(We infer from a reference in Estelle Ross, The Book of Noble
Dogs, New York: Century, 1922, p. 283, that this recollection is
contained in Napoleon I, Memorial de St. Hélène).

Barbuche "was one of three inseparable friends that fought in
the Italian campaign. He was the pet of Petit Jean, a waif who had been
lost, and of old Sergeant Fougasse, who took them both under his
protection." Petit Jean became a drummer boy; he died in battle;
Barbuche lost a front leg defending his dying master; after the war,
Fougasse earned his living through Barbuche's tricks; through this, met
Petit Jean's mother and was able to tell his story. (Hopkins, pp.
282-3.)

Buff. See "Gordon's Poodle Visuals"
for a reference to the portrait by Ward of Buff, who accompanied his
master, Lt. Col. Chestmaster, during the Peninsula War.

Magrita. "Magrita, a humanitarian dog that served with Zouaves
of the Guard, carried in a sack hung around his neck bandages which he
offered as first aid to the wounded." Alice Lang Rogers, Poodles in
Particular (NY: Howell, 1967, p. 31.

Moffino was separated from his master in the confusion at
Berezina, but, having followed the trail of the army for many thousands
of miles, reunited himself a year later at Milan: "alors qu'il se
remettait de ses blessures...il eut lui aussi la surprise d'ouvrir un
jour sa porte sur un fantôme de caniche et d'y reconnaître son
Moffino. L'homme et le chien à se soigner et vécurent encore
côte à côte de nombreuses années." Philippe de Wailly,
Les Caniches (Paris: Solar, 1988), new edition; first published
in 1972; p. 10. In a slightly different version of the story, Moffino,
whose companion-in-arms, an Italian corporal, was supposed to have been
lost while crossing the Berezina River, travelled from Russia to Italy
to find him; when he reached Milan, he was barely recognized by the
Corporal: Paul-Marc Henry, Poodlestan: A Poodle's Eye View of
History (NY: Reynal, 1965), pp. 37.

Mohiloff. "Napoleon was not so secure on the throne of France
that he did not dread royalists' plots. For suspected conspiracy in one
the Duc d'Enghein fell under his ban, and was arrested at Metz. Bidden
to prepare for a long journey, he requested that two of his friends
should accompany him, which was refused; but his captors grudgingly
permitted his poodle, Mohiloff, a present from the king of Sweden, to be
with him..." Ross, p. 96, refers to: H. Welsingher, Le Duc
d'Enghein. The Duc d'Enghein was transported in secrecy to the
fortress of Vincennes; was shot at dawn without judgement or warning (an
act strongly condemned by Tallyrand); Mohiloff insisted on staying with
his master until the last moment; had to be forcibly removed from his
grave; was adopted by the commander of the fortress; after the Poodle's
death, he was stuffed and placed under a glass globe. Henry, pp.
40-1.

Moustache. "Moustache, a black poodle [born in Normandy in
1799, Der Deutsche Pudel (Munich: The German Poodle Clubs,
1907), summary/translation by HB, 8/'97], the pet of a regiment of
French grenadiers, took an active part in the Austrian campaign during
the Napoleonic wars. He was present at Marengo and is credited with
having detected an Austrian spy and saving a detachment of his company
from a surprise attack by the enemy [de Wally states, p. 10, that this
latter event occured at Aboukir]. His crowning achievement was at
Austerlitz. A young ensign, bearing the regimental colours, mortally
wounded and surrounded by the enemy, with a dying effort attempted to
save the flag by wrapping it round his body. Moustache went to the
rescue; he could do nothing for the young soldier but attempt to recover
what he had given his life to save. Dexterously with his teeth and paws
he unwound the standard, and, carrying it in his mouth, bore it back in
triumph to his own lines. [Philippe de Wailly, a veterinarian, simply
states that the dog dashed under fire to the corpse of the unfortunate
flagbearer and retrieved the flag.] For this he was awarded a medal for
gallantry, and his name was placed on the regimental books as a
full-fledged soldier drawing rations and pay. [Henry, pp. 33-4, states
that he was entitled to wear a tri-colour collar with a silver medal,
engraved on one side: "Moustache, A French dog, a brave fighter
entitled to respect," and on the other: "At the Battle of Austerlitz,
he had his leg broken while saving the flag of his regiment," and that
he was presented to the Emperor Napoleon, for whom he performed varous
tricks, including his most famous one, lifting his leg at the mention of
the Emperor's enemies.] He followed his battalion when it was ordered
to the Peninsula, and at the seige of Badajoz a cannon ball laid him
low. His comrades buried him where he fell and put up a stone to his
memory with but one word of tribute: "'Brave' Moustache." Ross, pp.
92-3; incidentally, Ross also presents an enjoyable account of Boy (pp.
57-63; illus. opposite p. 64). Hopkins states that Moustache was
decorated by Le Maréchal Jean Lannes (1769-1809) on the eve
of the Battle of Austerlitz, by which she may mean the evening after the
battle. Der Deutsche Pudel: "He was interred...with collar and
medal under a modest stone with the simple words 'Ci gît le brave
Moustache.' Unfortunately the Spaniards destroyed the stone after the
war and on order of the Inquisition the brave dog's bones were burned."
For an illustration of this event dating from the 1860s (?), see:
Hopkins, p. 280 (de Wally credits a painting of the event to Job). See
also Mad. Jeancourt-Galignani, Les Caniches et leur Elevage
(Paris: 1958; originally published in 1937), p. 186.
See: J. Jupin, Les Chiens Militaires dans l'Armee Francaise
(Paris: Berger-Levrault, 1887). 175 pp. (See
War Dogs Bibliography; for a review of this book,
see "The Use of Dogs in War: A Frenchman's Notion of them as Soldiers,"
The New York Times, 7 April 1889, p. 17.) Here's Moustache's story
retold in a 19th century French-language reader: Alain Auguste Victor de Fivas, The Classic French Reader:
For the Advanced Students, or Beauties of the French Writers,
Ancient and Modern (New York: D. Appleton & Co., 1864), pp. 169-173,
on line at
Google Book Search.

Mouton. "Sergeant Bourgogne met another sergeant of his regiment
carrying the regimental dog, Mouton, on his back, since the unfortunate creature
had all four legs frozen and could not walk. Mouton was a poodle they had
picked up in Spain in 1808, and had followed the regiment to Germany the
following year, been in battle at Essling and Wagram, then accompanied it back
to Spain in 1810. It had set off with the regiment for Russia in the spring of
1812, but got lost in Saxony. It had subsequently recognized an echelon of the
regiment by the uniform, and followed it all the way to Moscow."
Adam Zamoyski, Moscow, 1812 (New York: Harper Collins, 2004), p. 490. The
source for the story is: Adrien Bourgogne,
Mémoires du Sergeant Bourgogne, 1812-1813,
publiées d'apres le manuscrpt original par Paul Cottin
et Maurice Henault (Paris: 1901).

Muchuch.
"After the battle of Talavera [27-28 July 1809],
General Graham, afterwards
Lord Lynedoch, was told of a dog which lay on the grave of
a Spanish officer and refused food. He desired the dog to be
brought to his quarters, but the servant returned without
him, and said the dog would not allow him to come near.
General Graham then ordered him to take as many soldiers
as were necessary to secure and bring him away. After a
time, the dog was sent to Scotland, to his friend Graham
of Fintry (the injudicious patron of Burns), by one of whose
family he was given to the father of my informant, who
resided in Edinburgh. At that house he remained some
years -- the delight of all. He was a large poodle, marked
with brown, and had had part of one of his ears shot off
in battle. In those days the guns from the Castle announced
many victories, and when they were fired Muchuch got into a
state of great excitement; the house-door was opened, and
he ran direct to the Castle and straight to the battery among
the men. After a while he was regularly expected on such
occasions, and welcomed and made much of by the soldiers.
Frequently he walked out with the governess and young
ladies: one morning, in the King's Park, he was seized with
asthma, a soldier kindly assisted them to carry him to
a stream of water and then to Holyrood. Having heard
his history he asked leave to acquaint the guard at the
Palace -- the soldiers turned out and paid all respect to
the old hero.

"His friends had reluctantly to part with him, finding that
he had become jealous of the youngest member of the
family, who was a great favourite, and it being feared he
might do her some serious injury. Muchuch ended his
days peacefully, at Fintry, acting turkey-herd -- driving his
charge afield in the morning, and bringing the flock home
every evening." George Richard Jesse, Researches into
the History of the British Dog (London: 1866 [2 vols]) vol. 1,
pp. 118-119.
For the full text on line, see:
Researches....

Sancho. William Youatt, in The Dog (London: 1845), p.
49, mentions Sancho, rescued from the battlefield at Salamanca (22 July
1812) by the Marquis of Worcester (Lord Worcester, Henry Somerset,
1792-1853, Marquis of Worcester future 7th Duke of Beaufort to which
title he acceded in 1835). Youatt observed that Sancho's portrait was
"familiar to many of our readers" and also mentions another Poodle who
died heroically defending the body of his master after the battle of
Castella.

In relation to the "familiar" portrait, perhaps this is that
print mentioned by Hopkins "showing him to have been a handsome large
white dog," (p. 283):
'A view taken in Hyde Park' (Henry Somerset, 7th Duke of Beaufort), 1817., which shows
"Lord Worcester with his Poodle, Sancho, whom he adopted at the battle
of Salamanca in 1812. This faithful Poodle had been found lying on the
grave of his master, a Lieutenant in the defeated French army. This
story of devotion proved to be extremely popular and another print was
issued showing the dog lying upon his master's grave." Eileen Geeson,
The Complete Standard Poodle (NY: Howell, 1998), p. 13.

Or, Youatt's "familiar" portrait may be
"Sancho.
The Property of the Marchioness of Worcester,
taken at the Battle of Salamanca by the Marquis, from
the Grave of its Master a French Officer, where it was
found exhausted & nearly starved to death, & was with
much difficulty forced away from becoming a sacrifice to
its Fidelity. Engraved from a Picture by H.B. Chalon, Painted
for H.R.H. the Princess Charlotte of Wales [Princess Charlotte
Augusta of Wales, 1796-1817]." (Please note the
correction to Henry, p. 34.)

Thoutou was the mascot of a regiment of Zouaves; the dog
captured a number of spies (and was once upon a time smuggled in a
drum). (Hopkins, p. 282.)

Leo (1819)

"The fate [1 May 1819] of poor Acton was particularly melancholy, and so, in its
proportion, was that of his favorite poodle dog, Leo. This fine animal
had been for years his most attached and faithful companion. Leo had
been sheared and trimmed up into the shape and appearance of a most
ferocious Lion, but this was only in outward resemblance; for Leo had a
kind and playful spirit. He possessed wonderful instinct and sagacity,
and performed many amusing pranks and tricks, such as fetching anything
from his master's room which he desired him to bring. His forte, however,
was in aquatic displays, particularly in diving, or leaping overboard,
and then scrambling up again by a rope thrown over the side. Leo
was the constant attendant on his master, on all occasions of bathing.
Acton had been an out-picquet on the night preceding the surprise, and,
on returning, had remained to bathe. While enjoying this luxury, after
the fatigue of the night, being helpless and defenceless, the enemy came
rapidly on, escape was impossible--and these cruel agents of oppression
bayoneted him in cold blood. His faithful Leo made a vigorous attack
on the barbarous miscreants, and likewise full, covered with wounds,
in the vain endeavour to defend his master." The Court Journal:
Court Circular & Fashionable Gasette, from January to December
1835 (London), p. 469 (see:
Google books). Acton was part of a piratical expedition
to Porto Bello in Panama in 1819
headed up by the "Cacique of Poyais" aka the adventurer
Sir Gregor M'Gregor (see
Google books; The Edinburgh magazine, July-December 1819, p. 71).